Page 19 of Death at the Deep Dive

He unlocked the door and stepped inside, making his way around drop cloths, saw horses, ladders, paint cans, and scattered tools.

“Hello? Anyone here?”

The workmen’s vehicles were gone, so he would have been startled if anyone had answered.

The smell of paint and glue and saw dust and formaldehyde permeated the air as he wandered from room to room, checking out the progress.

As thrilled as he’d been by all that he and Jack had accomplished in the entry hall and kitchen, it was kind of awe-inspiring to see what an actual team of pros could do working for days on end.

One of the very coolest things that had happened so far was when the workmen had gone down to the cellar and discovered never used rolls of vintage wallpaper from the 1930s. The blue and silver paper featured delicate drawings of pairs of herons framed by acanthus and oak leaves in front of a mansion that looked remarkably like Captain’s Seat.

The wallpaper was going onto the walls of Ellery’s bedroom, although his room had not originally been included in the plans for renovation.

It was disconcerting how quickly you could burn through money when it came to things like tile and textiles.

But since the renovation was moving much more quickly now, Ellery had decided to hold a small house-warming party in November and invite some of his old friends.

A regular weekend house party.

Like in those Golden Age mysteries Nora was so fond of. Only minus the mystery. Anddefinitelyminus the murders.

With the exception of his parents (and Brandon), Ellery hadn’t seen anyone from his old life since he’d left New York in February. He was looking forward to catching up with his old crew, hearing all the news, hearing all the gossip.

They would all continue to believe he’d had some kind of breakdown, but whatever.

Arf! Arf! Arf!

He glanced out the window. Daylight was fading rapidly into twilight, but there was still enough time for a quick walk down to the beach. It was tough on such an energetic young dog being cooped up in a bookshop all day. They could both use the exercise.

He went back outside, whistled to Watson who, this time, came galloping from behind the house as though it had never crossed his mind to start digging holes in that freshly planted bed of hydrangeas.

“Wanna go for a walk?” Ellery asked.

Watson considered that the best news he’d had all day. He jumped up and down and then took off like a shot across the drive and vanished into the field of tall grass and goldenrod. Ellery could hear him barking joyously into an ever-growing distance, but it was all right. There was no one to disturb. No humans, anyway. Even in the spring and summer, their nearest neighbors were out of sight and usually out of mind. And this time of year? There was literally no one in barking—or shouting—distance.

He waded through the wet field, drawing deep lungfuls of rain-sweet air. The tensions of the day—not that there were so many tensions these days—faded. Overhead, enormous, billowy, indigo-edged clouds shapeshifted into castles and galleons and formless, but mostly playful, monsters.

As he started down the steep hillside trail to the beach, he was conscious for the first time that Eudora—in fact, generations of Pages—must have taken these same paths many times, that he was literally following in the footsteps of his family, heck, his ancestors.

For the first time, he recognized what an amazing gift he had been given.

When he’d first arrived in Pirate’s Cove, he’d been too busy trying to save the bookshop and the old house to focus on anything but what needed to be fixed, altered, updated. But now that things were starting to come together, he could appreciate not just what he had, but the possibilities for what could be.

He reached the sandy bottom of the hillside and walked along the water’s edge, smiling as he watched Watson chasing away the waves, only to retreat, barking hysterically, when the tide came rushing back in noisy, foaming onslaught.

After locating a suitable piece of driftwood, Ellery played fetch with Watson for about ten minutes, and then, with the darkness closing in, they hiked back up the hillside, crossed the field, and walked up the drive to the house.

Ellery stopped in his tracks.

A light gleamed from one of the upstairs windows.

Okay. No big deal. One of the workmen must have left it on earlier in the day. Although, as far as Ellery could remember, that small room on the second floor was not included in the renovations.

Something about that single bright window made his scalp prickle.

What was that room anyway? A sitting room? Sewing room? Fainting room?

But seriously, what was the problem? He could have left the light on himself.

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